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    INSIGHTS,
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    Because complaining about stuff shouldn't be limited to the elderly
    Dish trolls and why being the only guy isn't always a good thing
    We sell spatulas and that's all. Sat, 10/28/06

    I wrote this a few weeks ago but accidentally gave a coworker my URL. Certain things I say can be misconstrued; I was worried about posting this. However, since the coworker is no longer employed by A Television Station Not Owned by Rupert Murdoch, I can now feel comfortable posting this.

    One of the worst things about living on your own is that you learn things really don't clean themselves. Back when I lived with my mom and I tossed dirty dishes in the sink, she told me to clean them because "dirty dishes don't clean themselves." I never really believed that because whenever I did leave a dirty plate in the sink, eventually it was washed. I figured either trolls broke in the house every night or the dirty dishes DID clean themselves. So far, I haven't had that kinda luck on my own--maybe the trolls don't know where I live.


    Last week I inadvertently attended a coworker's bridal shower. This chik I work with impulsively decided to get married (I think she's pregnant) and her best friend in the office decide to throw a surprise lunch party for her. At least that's the way it was proposed to me. Since I'm a big fan of social gatherings and long lunch breaks, I saw no reason to decline.

    Little did I know I was being sucked into a bridal shower. I was one of two guys to attend the event (and the only guy who likes girls). We played wacky wedding games and people brought her presents. Me: I was there just for the cheesy fries.

    I was a total hit amongst my female coworkers. Mainly it was due to my uncomfortableness of having to attend a bridal shower (I had the misfortune of winning the centerpiece in a drawing--a wonderful bouquet of flowers I have no use for). We had to play this game were we identified as many cooking utensils as possible in a 30 second span. I'm a guy and had no idea what I was looking at--you coulda mixed medieval torture devices in there and I wouldn't even noticed. My "list" ended up consisting of five things:
    1. Spoon with hole
    2. Spoon without holes
    3. Really big fork thingy
    4. Paint brush
    5. Air (they wouldn't count this one even though I insisted it was in the box)
    I was more out of place than a republican at a woman's rights rally. The gals had a good hoot with me being the bumbling and uncomfortable male. I had a good time with the cheesy fries.

    Anywhos, I ended up sitting next to a woman I rarely talk to at work (she's an administrator; I'm always getting my hands dirty with real work). This chik fell in love with me. She thought I was a total riot. Sure she's like 90 years old, but I enjoy making anyone laugh: even if she already has one foot in the grave.

    The point to all this? Ever since last week, every time I walk near this chik she starts cracking up. Today she told me that she just can't forget my antics from last week and it just makes her laugh. It's nice to know I can get some old stuff whenever I want it.

    © 2006 siknerd.com


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